Maya's Arc

Chapter 2 of 2

Maya stared at the painting a moment too long. The woman's face was her own. Same dark eyes, same curve of the jaw. She looked away and rubbed her arms. Cold pressed against the tall windows. Outside, the last light had died. She thought of the road, the dead car, the hour-long walk in the dark. Her legs still ached from the last one. "I can keep walking," she said. "If I follow the road, I'll find a house." Draven turned from the fire. "There is no house for many miles. The nearest town is two hours by car. You have no car." His voice stayed calm. "Autumn nights here are hard. People have frozen on that road." Maya knew he was right. She hated that he was right. She looked at the closed doors, then at her dead phone. No call would come. No ride. She had one warm room offered and a stranger's word to trust. "Fine," she said. "Just for the night. I'll leave at first light." Draven gave a small nod. He raised his hand, though he did not speak or ring a bell. A door at the side of the hall opened at once. An older man stepped through. His gray hair was combed flat and neat. He wore a black butler's uniform with white gloves, pressed sharp at every seam. He moved without hurry, but he was already halfway across the hall before Maya heard his shoes. His eyes passed over her and stopped, just for a breath, on her face. Then he looked at the painting. Then back at her. His mouth tightened. "This is Sebastian," Draven said. "He has served this house longer than you would believe. He will see to your room." "Miss." Sebastian dipped his head. His voice was dry and low. "Follow me. The east room has a fire laid already." He said it as if the room had been waiting. Maya glanced at Draven. He had turned back to the flames, done with her for now. She followed the butler up the wide staircase. Sebastian climbed without sound. She counted his steps against her own loud ones. At the top he stopped and looked at her again, longer this time. "You should not have come here," he said quietly. Not a threat. Almost a warning. "I didn't have a choice," Maya said. "My car died." "No," Sebastian said. "I suppose you didn't." He opened a heavy door. Inside, a fire burned in the grate. The bed was made. A nightdress lay folded on the pillow, sized for her, as if someone had known she would come. Maya stood in the doorway and did not step in. "How did you know I'd be here?" Sebastian only bowed and pulled the door half shut behind her. His steps faded down the hall. Maya turned the lock. It held. But the folded dress on the bed told her the lock meant nothing at all.